First Impressions: Blye, K
by Riptide2
Summary: Callen, Sam, and Renko already make up NCIS: OSP's flagship team, but when Hetty decides that Renko needs a new partner Kensi Blye joins the team. She's tough, opinionated, and desperate to prove herself, but her new teammates aren't going to make that an easy task. Especially when a dangerous Mexican cartel and a Navy officer turned traitor are keeping OSP's finest on their toes.
1. Prologue

First Impressions: Blye, K.

_Chapter 1: Prologue_

She stood in a casual at ease stance, falling back on the crash course NCIS training she'd completed barely a week earlier in the unfamiliar surroundings of their L.A. offices. They were surprisingly spacious for the inside of an abandoned warehouse, but this organized bureaucratic scramble was something utterly foreign to her military mindset. She'd been raised on an army base, or at least she had until her father's death. She'd always been a tom boy, but two years spent on the streets after that had shown her just how tough she could actually be when push came to shove. She'd never seen herself as an agent instead of a marine but those two years in back alleys and shelters had taught her that she could be more than a soldier with a gun.

She was also a prime candidate for the position she was up for. No immediate family, or at least none she was close to, and no significant other to tie her down, she was a loner not essentially by choice but necessity. Those were the kind of people this place attracted though; the ones who didn't need, or just didn't have anyone, the ones who could put the job first. She looked down suddenly the unshed tears glistening in her mismatched brown-black eyes showing the first cracks in her casual façade. Jack Darby was one of the few people who could get to her, the one weakness she still struggled to hide.

It had been six months since the PTSD had gotten the better of him, six months since the day she'd realized he was so inexplicably _gone_, six months since she'd lost the second man she'd loved, and she was still no closer to accepting the fact that she wasn't going to wake up and find it nothing more than an unreal dream, a cruel prank of which she was the unwilling sucker. She _knew_ deep down that that wasn't going to happen. Her luck wasn't that good, it never had been, but that didn't stop the hope or the denial. That was part of why she was here.

She'd never thought she'd end up living a life that wasn't centered on an army base but the opportunity had come along and with Jack's encouragement she'd joined NCIS' training program. A week after she'd been accepted, the news of Jack's deployment had come, and when he'd come back, well he hadn't really came back at all.

A new start was what her training agent had said, a chance to put the twin tragedies of her past where they belonged, in the past. She'd been secretly furious with him for putting her up for this position without the slightest bit of warning until the acceptance letter appeared in her mail. The last thing she needed was another man trying to direct her life, but he'd brought her around, slowly but surely convinced her that this was the way to go. This was her chance at moving forward and she'd agreed, finishing the NCIS training course in record time. Now it seemed like a fantasy, standing in the hallway desperately trying to hold back the tears.

She refused to break down here though, she wouldn't cry in front of these strangers. She'd worked hard to achieve her reputation of being just as tough as any of her male peers and she'd be damned if she let herself look weak in the eyes of her potential colleges. She could fight just as well as any of them and she was a hell of a better sniper than the majority. There was no way she was going to let a few tears ruin that.

She tugged at the sleeves of her close fit leather jacket, curled her hands into tight fists until she could feel her nails digging into her palms, and willed the tears to stop. Later, she told herself, she'd deal with her loss later when she didn't have to be strong, when she didn't have to put on an act for these people.

The door opened across the hall from her and her head snapped up, the pain on her face gone behind a mask of polite professionalism as the clip of heels on tile floors drew her eyes to the woman now standing in front of her. She had strict, sharp features and straight blonde hair pulled back in a tight pony tail and Kensi abruptly felt underdressed with her blue jeans and loose hair.

"Special Agent Lara Macy," the woman explained as Kensi shook her offered hand, "You must be Kensi Blye."

Kensi nodded, "Yes, ma'am. I just wanted to say thank you for giving me a chance to…"

Macy didn't even let her finish though and there was something of a challenge in the agent's blue eyes, "Let's get one thing straight, Ms. Blye. You haven't been given anything. If you're going to stay here, you'll earn it. Understood?"

Kensi smiled, she'd expected nothing less, "Of course, and it's just Kensi."

Approval flickered in the older woman's eyes, before she turned heading back to the office she'd just left, "Good. Let's get started."


	2. Newbie

**Author's Note:** I just want to say a great big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and put this story on favorites.

To my first guest reviewer: Thanks for letting me know about the spelling. I've gone back and fixed it.

To my second guest reviewer: I'm not exactly on the Kensi/Callen shipping train, but you might see hints here and there if you're looking, especially in chapters four and five.

Chapter 2: Newbie

"Just let the boys duke it out," Special Agent Macy, and possibly Kensi's new boss, whispered as she watched the fight in front of them with an expression of complete and utter exasperation.

She nodded already studying the profiles of the men stalking around each other on the blue training mats and placing her bets. The African American man on the side of the mat facing her, who she assumed from the briefing Macy had just given her was Special Agent Sam Hanna, was well over six feet, much heavier built than the smaller man he was facing, and moved with the strict precision of a person with military training. He was her immediate favorite, if only on the fact that his obvious training with the probably close to a hundred pounds he had on the other man should have made it an easy win. According to his file, he was an ex-SEAL and had the presence to match, easily taking up his side of the mat, probably in an attempt to crowd the shorter man he was facing.

She was a living example that looks could be deceiving though so she wasn't about to completely discount his opponent. The man in question was shorter, still probably close to six feet but Hanna had at least three inches on him, with pale skin by comparison and a buzz cut of dark blonde hair. She recognized him instantly from the file she'd been given to read after signing her life away in Non-disclosure forms as the senior agent of their team and Hanna's partner who Lara Macy had referred to as simply Callen. She couldn't pin down the control of military training in his stance, but when he sidestepped to stay directly opposite his partner there was the lithe grace of a fighter in the movement that gave her the sense that he was hiding something under the slightly too easy step.

They circled each other, matching black knives held in an almost casual grasp, and as she turned to demand just how long this was going to take, she startled to realize that Macy wasn't there anymore. It unnerved her, she wasn't used to being snuck up on, or in this case snuck _out_ on, but she was here now and apparently there wasn't much of a second option so she settled down to watch, or interrupt since she hadn't quite decided whether the match was worth her time just yet.

The two men were a little closer to each other now in the every shrinking circle they were pacing and they had yet to notice her so she knew the actual confrontation was bound to be soon. They didn't disappoint either and Hanna lashed out with a strike that should have easily caught the senior agent in the shoulder, but he wasn't there. He must have seen the move coming because he ducked back, parrying away his partner's swing when it got too close, before taking a half step back in retreat, buying time for space. Kensi shifted, watching for Agent Hanna's next move as the bigger man lunged again.

The blonde reacted faster than she would have anticipated though and stepped into and under the swing, coming up behind the African American man with all the coiled energy of a snake waiting to strike. Kicking his partner's feet out from under him, he had the bigger man on his knees, his black knife at his throat, all in one move. Kensi half startled, that wasn't at all what she'd been expecting.

Callen said something she couldn't catch from across the room and Hanna chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, but I still want a rematch."

The blonde team leader rolled his eyes and moved around to extend a hand to pull his partner to his feet and Kensi shifted, wondering if she should interrupt or wait for them to finish. Before she could do either though Callen turned, his intense blue stare pinning her where she stood. "And you must be the newbie."

His voice was light, teasing, not insulting, but she still felt an instinctive flicker of irritation. _Newbie_, she bit her lip, forced the smile to stay on her face, and buried the urge to deck him, from what she'd just seen it probably wouldn't accomplish anything except setting the record for the quickest transfer in history. She could imagine how that would look on her resume, getting kicked out of NCIS in under an hour for brawling with a senior agent wouldn't be a high point in her career.

He was apparently going to be her immediate boss though and if she was going to stay here she needed his approval on her field test, the final step between her and officially becoming an NCIS agent. So she resigned herself to being polite and extended a hand first to him and then Hanna, "Kensi Blye, nice to meet you."

"Callen," His handshake was firm, something her father had taught her you could learn a lot about a man through, but she had to wonder about the lack of a first name.

He moved aside before she could comment though, but she still had the distinct feeling of being watched, studied, like he was trying to figure out just what to do with the rookie he'd been stuck with. Again she felt a familiar spike of annoyance, but then his partner was catching her hand in his large one and smirking at her, "Don't mind G. He hasn't had his morning dose of cholesterol yet."

She smiled despite herself and then ducked to the side as a balled up towel whizzed over her shoulder to catch Hanna square in the chest. Callen pointed an indignant finger at his partner, "I don't see you complaining about the crème puffs."

"That's different. It's called _balance_, G." Sam huffed, glaring at his partner over her head and Kensi had to bury the urge to get the hell out of dodge.

Her new boss smirked, completely ignoring the look on Hanna's face that would have sent most people running for cover, "Really? I can't say I've heard of it."

She swallowed a smile and tried her best to look indifferent as the big man rolled his eyes with a martyr's sigh, "Of course you haven't."

And then of course her new found amity got shattered as the gym door swung open so hard it bounced off the wall behind. There was a blonde guy in glasses and flip-flops of all things standing in the doorway, even though she was pretty sure she remembered Macy mentioning a dress code. He had a tablet computer still in hand and a wireless headset over one ear and even as he burst into the room his head was tilted to the side like he was still half listening to something else. He froze mid-sentence the instant he saw her, then abruptly started right up again, "Hey. You're Renko's new partner, right?"

She nodded, recognizing the name from Macy's briefing and raised her hand in a slightly awkward wave, "Kensi."

"Eric," he said copying her gesture and almost dropping his computer in the process.

"_Eric,"_ Callen interrupted, the slightest edge in his voice getting both their attention instantly, "What do you got?"

"Mike's coming on screen in ops," He explained like they already should have known that and then he was gone back out the doors so fast she was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash.

"Is he always that…?" She asked after a moment of staring at the place Eric had just occupied.

"Weird," Sam volunteered from behind her but she could still hear the smile in his voice.

"Pretty much," Callen stated, already half way out the door with a smirk on his face and as she followed after him with Sam on her heels she had no doubt that if she stayed here it was going to take some getting used to.


	3. Partners

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorite, and followed this story. The response has really surprised and delighted me.

Chapter 3: Partners

Her first impression of her new partner was that he was a complete and utter jerk, and that was less than a minute into the conversation.

She was standing in the sunken portion of their ops room, surrounded by a few million dollars' worth of gadgets that would have made any self-respecting techie sit up and beg. Hovering between Sam and Callen like a nervous shadow as they waited for the secure connection with Renko to come up, she couldn't help but wonder how they got anything done as the two senior agents alternated between needling each other and baiting Eric.

The screen flickered, automatic lights dimming over their heads, as the video chat connected and Macy silenced the bickering senior agents with a look that the blonde team leader on her right blithely ignored. Whatever the chain of command here was, it was clear that Callen lived in more of a grey area than their Ops Manager would have liked. Kensi had to wonder if it was insubordination, disrespect, or a combination of both behind his apparent disregard for orders, and why Macy put up with it.

"And we're up," Eric stated, flip flop clad feet swinging his chair around to face the screen as the static snow cleared and reformed to the face of a man roughly the same age as the two agents flanking her. He had dark brown hair, short but not nearly as short as their team leader's brush cut, and matching chocolate colored eyes, sarcastic and edgy as they slipped over her to the right to meet icy blue.

"So how's Santa Clarita?"

Callen question had her new partner's eyes rolling instantly, flat distaste in his voice as he grumbled, "Fishy, how else?"

Macy had moved down the stairs to stand beside them, the click of her heels lost under the incessant whir of cooling fans and bickering, and Kensi's eyes tracked over to watch her, vaguely wondering if it was usual for her boss to be present for regular check ins. "Your aversion to fish notwithstanding," Macy started, moving forward to gesture to her newest almost-agent, "Agent Renko, Kensi Blye. You'll be working together."

Renko snorted derision or ill-disguised contempt in the action of blatantly looking her over before rolling his eyes, "Rookie, perfect."

There wasn't the teasing lit in his voice that Callen's had carried, and she was seriously considering premeditated homicide as a fate for her new partner when the blonde team leader flanking her cut into their glaring contest. "Play nice," the words were fun but his tone held a hint of steel that very clearly didn't make it a suggestion.

"I don't need a partner." Renko snapped, but the revulsion on his end of the video had toned down in the face of Callen's no-nonsense glare.

"That's not your decision to make."

Her new partner's eyes tracked sideways, his glare coming as close to disrespect as possible without risking court martial as he started to snap back at Macy. Callen raised a hand sharply, effectively redirecting his rant, and Kensi's eyes narrowed. She'd met anarchists with more respect for authority than Callen and now he was standing up for the boss that he'd just finished ignoring?

There was something more to the story here and Kensi's eyes flickered between the team leader and her new partner as Callen backed up Macy's decision as easily as he'd disregarded her earlier. "That's enough," the senior agent ordered, "This is coming from over both our heads."

Renko snorted derision or half-hearted irritation in the motion as he drawled, "Hetty."

Kensi turned, catching Eric's eyes from across the room, and mouthed, _Hetty?_

The tech shook his head instantly, _Long story._

"Remind me again what authority she has to decide your team members, Mace?" Renko's question had Kensi's attention swinging back to the big screen, watching with something close to morbid fascination as he baited their office manager.

Lara Macy's eyes narrowed and Kensi got the distinct feeling that she didn't take well to being openly challenged like that. And then Callen was stepping in again, backing up the boss that he didn't seem to care for all that much, and Kensi abruptly realized exactly what he was doing. He wasn't siding with Macy. He was protecting his team. Renko was toeing the line of disciplinary action and Callen was making sure he didn't take a headlong dive over that line. Protecting your teammates, watching each other's backs, that was something that had been drilled into her from before she could walk, and Kensi felt a new found respect forming for the senior agent as he snapped, "I don't want to hear it. Give her a chance, Mike."

Renko rolled his eyes in disbelief, apparently at the fact that Callen was taking Macy's side, and the ops manager didn't give him time to retaliate, turning instead to Eric, "Full de-brief. Get Kensi up to speed."

"You got it," Eric nodded, shifting Mike's video call to half the screen as the rest filled itself with personnel files and Macy left for the raised section of ops, "Three months ago the Special Agent Afloat on the _U.S.S. Kelvin _tipped us off to rumors that the ship's First Officer, Commander James Scott, was using the _Kelvin _to smuggle drugs and guns from Columbia to L.A. If the rumors are true, he's already brought in almost half a million worth of heroin and black market weapons."

"Word on the street is that he's been supplying a Mexican street gang called the '_Los Diablos Locos'," _Renko's tone was still disgruntled but decidedly less insulting than before as he nodded at Eric to continue.

"The _Locos_ have been on LAPD's radar for years, ever since they started making inroads north of the border, but all seven times that they've put a case together the charges have been dropped."

"Why?" Kensi asked.

"Lack of evidence mainly," Callen responded, shrugging as he shifted on the spot.

"Bingo!" Eric crowed. "Witnesses against the _Locos _have a history of unfortunate accidents. For example," the tech threw up a series of crime scene photos as he explained, "untimely electrocution, accidental drowning, and unfortunate collisions with subway trains to name a few."

"Three weeks ago we got Renko in as a crooked MP who could get their shipments through port security," Callen stated before nodding at Renko to take over.

"I've been trying to get close to the head of the _Locos _Martino Delarosa and a couple of his lieutenants Alonzo Vega and Jose Merino," Renko explained as Eric highlighted a series of three mug shots and accompanying criminal records. "All three of these guys are some seriously bad dudes, but Delarosa takes the cake. He's been a person of interest in half a dozen unsolved homicides and come up on charges for three more, but every time we get close the case is compromised."

Kensi frowned, "Compromised how?"

Renko didn't exactly ignore her, but he was also didn't go out of his way to acknowledge her question, continuing as easily as if she hadn't even spoken and Kensi had to bite her tongue to swallow down the angry retort that threatened to leave his ears ringing, "Detective Anthony Stevens. He's been in charge of LAPD's investigation into the _Locos _from the start."

Callen stepped closer to the screen, nodding at Eric to pull up the detective's file before turning on the third member of his team, "When did this come up?"

Her new partner shrugged, seemingly unfazed by their team leader's annoyance, "About an hour ago. I overheard Martino on the phone with Stevens ordering him to shut down their investigation."

Callen's blue eyes narrowed, a spark of genuine anger coloring his voice as he snapped, "You should have called immediately. If Stevens is the leak then your cover could be blown."

"It's not, G," Renko insisted, "If Martino was on to me I'd know."

"Procedure's there for a reason, Mike." The lead agent insisted, stalking closer to the screen as the nearest techs scrambled to get out of his way and once again Kensi got the same impression as in the training room when he'd been sparring with his partner, the uneasy sense that he was hiding something dangerous under that calm confidence.

On screen Renko nodded, not exactly in agreement but more of a grudging deference. Callen was the team leader whether Mike agreed with him or not and Kensi half expected him to push for something better than partial tolerance. Instead he stepped back, understanding replacing anger as he nodded for the third member of his team to continue.

Renko accepted it without comment, turning instead to Eric, "With Stevens being dirty, than anything we've shared with LAPD has been compromised."

"I don't like leaving you in, but we don't have enough evidence to make any charges stick yet," Hanna cut in, moving to stand at his partner's shoulder as Callen nodded in agreement. "We'll have to be careful."

Mike Renko smirked, "Careful is my middle name."

Callen snorted in disbelief before gesturing to Kensi, "I assume they taught you how to run a tail?"

She nodded, biting her tongue. He was giving her a chance to prove herself that was all that mattered.

The team leader's gaze turned appraising, "Good. Martino's seen me and Sam already so you're going to have to be Renko's back up. It'll have to be just a loose tail, so keep your distance and stay in contact. We'll take Stevens."


	4. Made

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! And just a quick question, did anyone catch the _Star Trek (2009)_ reference in the last chapter? Thanks again, Riptide2

Chapter 4: Made

Kensi raised the miniature binoculars in her hand to her eyes, dialling in the focus as she killed the engine on the bright blue Malibu she'd been loaned for the op. Tinted out windows and the brilliant afternoon sun at her six ensured she couldn't be seen from inside the car and she took a second to appreciate the filters on her binoculars that blocked out most of the glare. NCIS didn't skimp on their tech, the fact made all the more evident as she reached up to brush her fingers over the wireless microphone nestled inconspicuously in her left ear. It was quiet aside from the mindless electronic hum of static since Renko's cover was fragile enough without adding the additional complexity of hiding a headset. Hanna had told her that while they usually liked to maintain constant contact with any agent in the field, in this particular scenario it was more of a way of communication in case of emergency than it was continuous surveillance.

Even with his explanation, she had the sneaking suspicion that this was another form of disguised test, especially when Eric had inadvertently added that the earpiece was GPS enabled and uploaded directly to their ops center. Callen's instructions had consisted of a location and pictures of the cartel boss Martino Delarosa and his lieutenants, Alonzo Vega and Jose Merino, as well as an order to remain close but not interfere unless her new partner made it clear that he needed back up, but so far the only ones she'd actually seen where Delarosa and Vega while Merino and Renko remained conspicuously absent.

She'd connected with a harried sounding tech back at ops half an hour ago for her first check-in and reported the status of her missing partner and the absentee cartel lieutenant and Callen had come on the line long enough for the team leader to tell her to stick close to Delarosa but otherwise hold position.

Kensi lowered her binoculars to the leather seat beside her before ghosting her fingers over her new NCIS badge. The evidence of almost a year and a half of hard work, she couldn't help but revel in the feel of the hard metal shield and the supple leather of the case it embellished. It was the embodiment of the fresh start she'd so desperately needed, but didn't think she'd get.

Across the street, Delarosa climbed out of his black Lexus, Alonzo Vega in tow, and Kensi moved in a sudden flurry of action. She couldn't afford to lose him now. Snagging the keys from the ignition, impulsively stuffing her badge into the pocket of her brown leather jacket, and tossing the binoculars into the glove compartment, she threw the door open, belatedly checking for traffic before jogging to the other side of the street.

She fell into an uneasy step behind Martino Delarosa, Flet-C training providing all the information she needed on running a successful tail. _If you're ever stuck following someone through a crowd, _her instructor had told the class in general, _be careful not to stare. And don't get too close, you're trying to tail them, not walk with them. Don't draw attention to yourself; to them you have to be just another face in the crowd._

She turned in a slow circle, observing the mass of people on Santa Clarita's sidewalks with a sniper's intense focus, her gaze lingering on a cream colored Aston Martin parked up the block. Santa Clarita wasn't a wealthy section of town and aside from Delarosa's Lexus it was probably the most expensive car on the street. It attracted her attention for a moment, before she went back to people watching. It was probably just tourists anyway.

Martino was getting ahead of her again and Kensi hustled to catch up, gaining distance as she put herself back in the fifteen feet range of a standard tail. Her time on the streets had served her well though and she knew how to be what people expected, to be invisible. Blending in with the crowds, checking her cell phone, window shopping as she walked, Kensi followed the cartel head and his first lieutenant, up the side of one block and half way down the next.

She was just ducking around the outdoor patio of a coffee shop when she felt it. The uneasy, creeping feeling of eyes on her made goose bumps break out across her arms despite the sun's steady glare and Kensi shot a glance at Martino Delarosa and Alonzo Vega walking ahead of her before whirling on her heel. Scanning the thinning mass of locals and tourists, she kept walking, coming up empty. That did nothing to settle her now jangled nerves and she could feel a twinge of fear creeping in like a cold breath against the back of her neck. She was being watched.

The overriding urge to glance over her shoulder made Kensi huff in irritation, her fingers automatically twitching to brush over the grip of the NCIS issue Sig Sauer tucked into the back of her jeans. She gave in after a minute more, using the reflective surface of a street vendor's cart to glance behind her and once again seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Paranoia, Kensi decided, and maybe a little bit of nerves, after the third glance back also revealed nothing to get excited about.

Martino turned the corner abruptly, taking a narrow alley to the right and disappearing. "Great," Kensi hissed under her breath as she moved to follow. "Now where's he going?"

"_Blye, this is Callen, come in."_

The static laced voice in her ear had Kensi jumping halfway out of her skin before her brain caught up with the words and then she breathed a sigh of equal parts relief and annoyance, trying to steady her suddenly racing heartbeat before reaching up to click her earpiece on. _"This is Kensi, go ahead." _The cursory _Nice to know you trust me _went unspoken.

"_Back off a bit, Blye. Give him some room." _Callen responded, his voice hard in her ear.

She huffed in annoyance before cringing when she remembered that he could hear her. _"Callen, I-," _She started to protest immediately, desperate to prove herself as more than just a pretty face.

"_Kensi, that's an order."_

The use of her first name startled her for a second until her determination came back. He didn't trust her to know how to do her job, and that had to change if she wanted to be anything other than the slightly amusing rookie. She reached up to click her earpiece off before he could respond and then belatedly remembered the GPS tracker. There wasn't much she could do about that though unless she wanted to ditch the entire piece and Kensi wasn't quite that stupid. She was already pushing it, but destroying government tech might just be taking it a step too far.

She turned in another slow circle scanning the crowd as she remembered that creeping feeling of being watched. She definitely wasn't the only one following Delarosa and his lieutenant but once again her cleaning sweep came up empty. Still feeling uneasy, Kensi ducked down the alley the cartel head had taken, but neither of the two men she was following was in sight.

Jogging haphazardly down the alley to catch up, she took a wild guess, turned right, and ran straight into the cartel's trap.

Vega's fist was flying out in front of her before Kensi saw it coming and she narrowly managed to throw her arm up to block before the rest of the cartel's muscle was closing in. Delarosa, Vega, and three other obviously Mexican men that she instantly nicknamed Larry, Curly, and Moe, at least someone today hadn't underestimated her. A split second later, she was moving, catching Vega's wrist and twisting till he screamed as the bone snapped.

She stepped up as Larry came after her next, clapping her hands over his ears hard. He howled and she planted her knee in his gut as he dropped. Curly and Moe were a little smarter, Curly launching a high spin kick at her ribs as Moe edged to the side. Kensi caught his ankle and twisted, sending Curly face first into the pavement in one well practised move as Moe grabbed her from behind.

Kensi allowed him a brief moment of satisfaction as she gathered herself before moving in a basic combination. Digging her square heel into the instep of his foot, planting her elbow hard in his ribs, and throwing her head back, Kensi heard the sickening crunch of bone and Moe wailed as his nose broke.

Delarosa had been standing back, watching as she systematically dismantled his men and now he smirked as Kensi twisted free of Moe and reached for her gun. "Federal Agent," she snapped, informing him of what he already knew, "Stay where you are."

"Or what," Martino drawled, his accent making his words thick and slurred. "Are you going to shoot me chica?"

"Stay where you are." Kensi repeated again, thumbing the safety off as he took a step closer, "Or I'll make you a chica."

"Feisty," He chuckled, "I like that."

Again he took a step closer as Kensi shifted a warning glare at Moe who was still on the ground nursing his bloody, broken nose. "I'd keep you around, doll. But Feds are always more trouble than they're worth."

Her gaze snapped back up to him, flat distain in her mismatched brown-black eyes and in a flurry of movement, Delarosa was on the offensive. Catching Kensi by surprise, he wrapped a hand around the barrel of her gun and twisted it back until she was forced to let go.

And then Kensi was moving again too, knocking the Sig away from him before Martino could get a good grip on it. She lashed out the instant it was out of his hand and skittering across the pavement, burying a fist in his ribs and a knee to the solar plexus when he doubled over.

Huffing she pushed him away to sprawl on the asphalt beside Larry's still wheezing form, "Seems to me like this doll just kicked your ass."

Martino's chuckle and the click of a safety stopped her and Kensi turned slowly, hands automatically coming up. It was Vega, cradling his broken wrist against his side, holding her gun in his other hand, "Not quite, doll."


	5. Loyalty

Chapter 5: Loyalty

She was bound hand and foot, arms twisted behind her back at an angle that was becoming increasingly painful, ankles secured to the legs of the rigid metal chair she was sitting on and she'd resolutely decided that despite its one hundred and one uses, duct tape was the worst substance known to man.

Her lock picks were completely useless without something to pick and she'd discovered that no amount of squirming loosened tape. She might have been able to tear it with her teeth if they left her alone long enough, but her arms were stuck behind her and the last time Kensi checked she wasn't enough of a contortionist to reach her ankles.

Delarosa was currently on the phone, pacing an uneven circuit around the other end of the closed garage as he chewed the dirty cop Stevens a new one in a mixture of Spanglish that made her perfectly fluent literary mind cringe and his three unfortunate henchmen from the alley, Larry, Curly, and Moe, had joined the two other Mexicans who'd been waiting for them in giving their increasingly irate boss a wide berth. Alonzo Vega on the other hand was either braver or far stupider than the rest. He was sitting less than five feet away from her, still nursing his broken, black and blue wrist, bouncing her gun on his knee. Kensi was determinedly ignoring him.

Martino Delarosa finally snapped, snarling silently as he flipped the phone closed and threw it at the concrete block wall. His cell exploded into a thousand tiny pieces of plastic and microchip as he stalked around in front of Kensi, "Miguel. Is he an agent, too?"

Kensi didn't respond eyes fixed on an indiscriminate spot over Curly's left shoulder. Callen already didn't trust her and Renko might have been a jerk but she wasn't about to sell him out. Besides, her Flet-C training had firmly reinforced that quiet hostages lived longer, even though Kensi was under no delusions of any sort. They were going to kill her either way; the only thing her silence changed was how quickly.

Delarosa, on the other hand, didn't seem to appreciate her loyalty, cursing in a mix of Spanish and English that made even her hardened ears burn before snatching her gun off of Vega's knee, "Miguel Sanchez. Who is he?"

"Never heard of him," Kensi snapped, looking away from the wall long enough to glare at Vega before looking up to meet Martino's gaze, forcing her eyes to sell the lie.

Martino Delarosa smiled, "That's all we needed to know, chica."

He clicked the safety off her Sig Sauer and Alonzo Vega smirked, "Bye, doll."

The heavy thud of a fist banging on the door stopped all three of them.

Kensi smirked as Larry visibly jumped, Vega cursed, and Martino sighed in annoyance, jamming her gun into the back of his pants and tugging his suit jacket down to hide it. Moe scrambled to get the door and Kensi tensed, if she could surprise them then she stood a half descent chance at getting her gun back before anybody realized what was happening.

The door swung open and Kensi had to hide her shock at the bored drawl that came with it, "Your boss around?"

Callen waltzed into the garage like he owned it, following Moe's pointed finger to where Martino was stalking over to meet him. "What do you want?"

The blonde shrugged and Kensi could see the momentary tension in his shoulders as his blue eyes ghosted over her, still tied to the chair. There was no recognition in his stare and Kensi fought to keep her expression neutral as he focused on Delarosa, "Just to give you some advice."

The cartel head's attitude flipped abruptly, still amused but with undertone of disguised threat now as his men shifted, Larry and Curly reaching for knives, the other two at the back slipping brass knuckles out of their pockets. "You should be more careful, senor. Unsolicited advice can be dangerous, especially for your health."

Kensi rolled her eyes in annoyance. She hated it when bad guys spoke in clichés.

Callen apparently didn't find it so amusing and like that morning in the gym and again with her new partner, Kensi could feel the shift in him as the easygoing front bled away, blue eyes reflexively darkening as he snarled, _"No se metan __con lo que es mío."_

Kensi frowned, her perfectly fluent mind stuttering to a halt as his meaning sunk in and Callen was moving before Martino Delarosa had a chance to do anything more than snarl, _"policia."_

Vega came at him first and Callen pulled the same trick he had on his partner, stepping into and under his swing, before catching Vega's arm and twisting his broken wrist up behind his back. Delarosa's warning shot caught Alonzo Vega square in the chest and Callen pushed the cartel lieutenant away to sprawl at Kensi's feet before reaching for his gun.

The shot went over Martino's shoulder, embedding itself in the forehead of another Mexican and Callen used the cartel head's momentary distraction to wrestle Kensi's gun out of his hand. He wrenched Delarosa's arm behind his back and brought his head down hard on one of the empty work benches, cutting off a stream of colorful Spanish curses.

Larry and the other of the two men who'd been waiting for them were marginally smarter. Larry came at him first, a three inch hunting knife held in one hand, as the other edged toward her fallen Sig, and Moe tried to sneak up on his other side. Callen let them come, getting well within range, before he retaliated.

Going after Larry first, he caught his wrist mid swing and twisted, snagging the knife the second he let go. Callen kicked his feet out from under him and Larry fell, face first into the concrete. Moe changed track abruptly, lunging for Kensi as Callen turned on him, and she silently wished she could do something more than glare defiantly. She was _not _some damsel in distress, and she didn't need saving. Except apparently she did, and it was her own damnfault.

Callen came up behind him, catching Moe before he could get to her and their eyes met as the blonde broke Moe's neck.

The crack of a gunshot redirected her attention, as another of Martino Delarosa's muscle pulled the trigger on her Sig and Callen turned. They missed. Callen didn't, and Larry's hunting knife buried itself in the Mexican's neck.

Curly gulped as his colleague fell with a silent gurgle before edging away, trying to get to the door with all his appendages still intact. Callen reached for his gun, an NCIS issue Sig Sauer the same as hers, finger already settling on the trigger and his warning shot embedded itself in the wall, three inches from Curly's head. "That's far enough," he snapped, as the cartel man froze. "Put your hands on your head."

He didn't argue and Callen looked away long enough to dig a switchblade from his pocket and cut her hands free before he crossed the shop to deal with Curly and then the still unconscious Larry, securing their hands with zip ties. Kensi worked her ankles free of the tape and joined him cautiously. Callen gave her a brisk once over and then nodded to the roll of duct tape sitting innocuously on one the work benches and Kensi went to work, giving the lot of them a taste of their own medicine.

She replaced the tape and retrieved her Sig from the dead cartel member's hand as Callen hauled the groaning Delarosa to his feet and sirens sounded outside. He breezed out the door to a cream colored Aston Martin parked at the curb and Kensi had a moment of déjà vu as she recognized it as the same car that had drawn her attention earlier. He'd been following her.

Callen moved forward, completely ignoring the thrill of fury that ran through her at the realization, popping the trunk and then slamming it again on Martino Delarosa's glaring face.

Kensi spent the ride back to ops in a furious, guilty silence and Callen let her. He cranked the radio, blaring soft rock over the curses and thumps from the cartel head in the trunk and never drove less than ten miles over the speed limit.

Kensi huffed in resigned defiance as they pulled in in front of the abandoned warehouse that disguised NCIS OSP's offices, fully expecting a rather public dressing down once Callen informed Macy of her complete disregard for orders. She'd be the rookie no one could trust for the rest of her career and she'd done it completely to herself.

Callen shut off the car, the sudden silence pounding loudly in her ears, and Kensi steeled herself, but she really shouldn't have expected anything typical from Callen, not when the blonde had already proved to her that he was anything but.

He popped open the driver's door before turning back to her, "Next time, trust me."


End file.
